Chapter 17
The trip back to the storeroom progressed at a much slower pace. No longer driven by the need to speak to Cog, I tended to stop often and lay my cheek against the cool metal of the duct. The warm air flowing through the shaft didn’t help either. I dozed off a few times.
My sense of accomplishment on reaching the storeroom evaporated in an instant. Riley occupied the couch. I couldn’t call it sitting. Every muscle was so taut he appeared as if welded in place. His furious expression matched his posture.
I concentrated on pulling my body from the vent. My adventure ended on the ground in a painful and exhausted heap. Wondering how I would find the energy to endure the inevitable recriminations and questions from Riley, I rested my head on the floor.
Instead, he gathered me in his arms and carried me to the couch.
“This is the second time I’ve had to pick you up.
At least, this time you’re conscious.” He knelt and set me down with care.
All signs of his anger had dissipated. “Good thing you don’t weight much either. ” He fussed about, propping cushions.
I was half asleep when he said, “Let’s see what damage you’ve done.” He pulled back my uniform to expose my injury. “A pillow.” He shook his head as he peeled off the tape.
Blood soaked the underside of the pillow. I closed my eyes against the sudden queasiness in my stomach. He probed the cut and I hissed in pain.
“Amazing. You didn’t rip any stitches, but you need a new bandage.”
I peeked at him. His tone was matter-of-fact and he moved with confident efficiency as if he changed bandages all the time.
“It’s going to hurt.” He gloated.
“You need to work on your bedside manner,” I said.
“And you need to listen to your doctor. Now hold still.”
I bit my lip as he removed the old dressing and replaced it with a clean one. He covered me with a blanket. Rummaging around his desk, he returned with a tool resembling bolt cutters but smaller.
“Cuff.”
I held my arm out. “Any chance you have any sheep oil?” I asked as he tightened the clamp.
“Nope. And this will hurt.” He grunted and the metal cuff buckled.
It broke with a crunch snap, gouging a hunk of skin in the process just like Emek had warned. Riley pulled the damaged cuff from my wrist and bandaged the bleeding gouge. He poured me a glass of water. Remembering the doctor’s instructions, I sipped it.
Riley sat on the edge of the couch, and I knew the questions would start. He didn’t disappoint me. “What was so important?”
I told him about Cog. About his strength, his sacrifice and his beliefs. “I couldn’t let him be recycled without knowing about Gateway.”
Riley listened without interruption. “Then we need to open Gateway before he’s recycled.” He glanced at the floor as if undecided then met my gaze. “You said you didn’t have a mate.”
I almost laughed, but remembered the pain it caused. “I don’t. Cogon is like…” I cast about for the right upper word. “A brother to me. You should know how that is, you have one.”
“I saw him once, and then he was gone.” He frowned. “I thought scrubs didn’t have families.”
“We don’t. I was trying to match the feeling. Cog was my care mate. Which means we grew up together, looked after each other.” I struggled to keep my eyes open.
“Get some rest, Trella.” Riley smoothed a few hairs from my face and stroked my cheek.
“We need to plan.”
“We’ll make plans when you’re stronger. Rest now. Doctor’s orders.”
This time I listened.
I woke to the ungentle prodding of the doctor.
She perched on the edge of the couch and held up the needle I had yanked from my arm. “I see you decided to stop your medicine. Are you feeling better?”
“Yes.” The dizziness and nausea were gone. My stomach rumbled, but I had no energy. The doctor helped to prop me up, bending caused too many spikes of pain.
“Here.” She handed me a warm bowl of tan-colored water, and a spoon.
I sniffed the strange substance.
“It’s broth. It’ll help you recover.” Amusement filled her voice. “If you keep that down, I’ll give you a thicker soup.”
Sipping a spoon full of broth, I waited for my stomach’s reaction. My hunger strengthened, and I abandoned the spoon to drink right from the bowl.
“Enjoy being able to recover quickly. When you get past thirty-five hundred weeks old, it’s harder to heal.
” She handed me the soup. “In a few hours you can return to your normal diet.” Rising, she glanced around the room.
“Eventually, you’re going to want to take a shower and sleep in a real bed.
” Her gaze returned to me. “You already have the student’s uniform, and I have an extra bed in my rooms next to the infirmary you can use.
It’s supposed to be for an intern, but none of the current class has the skills needed, and I’m waiting for a few of the younger kids to grow older. ”
A generous and dangerous offer. She would be recycled if I was found in her rooms. “Wouldn’t my presence be suspicious?”
“Not really. Students have more freedoms and aren’t tracked as closely until they chose a profession and are given a port. My supervisor would actually be happy to see I have selected an intern, he’s been nagging me about it for weeks.” She checked my pulse. “Strong. You should be fine.”
Collecting a few medical items, she headed toward the door. Before she left, she looked at me. “Think about my suggestion, Ella. Riley knows where to find me.”
Her offer was out of the question. Karla would not stop until she found me and I needed to confirm Gateway’s location, talk to Logan about those files, open Gateway, and turn myself in to the Pop Cops for Cog.
Playing Ella the upper with a very nice lady wasn’t included in my to do list no matter how much I wished it were.
Instead, I reviewed each task. Confirming Gateway’s location would require climbing through the shafts.
Not possible right now, but could be accomplished in another ten hours or so I hoped.
The concern was if Karla had gotten the coordinates from Domotor and/or Logan and beat me to Gateway.
What then? The Pop Cops would control it.
I could tell the scrubs about its existence.
I barked out a laugh. I’d be the new prophet, raving about Gateway for everyone’s amusement.
No. If Karla had Gateway, the game would be over.
If I found Gateway, I would need to learn more about Outside and how to open the door.
Logan guessed the needed information hid in the old files.
Opening the files required passwords and Logan.
Again I needed to be able to climb to contact the Tech No.
If Karla held Logan, or if we couldn’t deduce the correct passwords, then game over.
Opening Gateway depended on the success of task two plus we would need uppers to cover the computer alerts.
I had a list of possible sympathizers, but one of them was a spy.
Logan had planned to check the computer records of the uppers.
If he couldn’t discover who worked for Karla, we’d need to find another group via Riley, and hope we didn’t contact another spy. If we did—game over.
The last task, turning myself in to Karla had the least problems. And once the game was over, it would be the only job left for me to do.
I needed to communicate with Karla somehow, and I really needed to find out what she knew and what she planned. Too bad I couldn’t crawl through the heating vents again and maybe listen—
Jacy’s device! I had planted one in the air shaft over Karla’s office.
If I could pick up the audio signal, I could listen in.
I ignored the fact I had no idea how to do it.
My whole future depended on ifs and hopes and assumptions and possibilities that I would consider it impossible right now if I thought about it too much.
I decided to think positive and impart maximum damage.
My tool belt was close enough to reach with a minimal amount of bending. I removed the listening device. Jacy might regret his offer to help.
I flipped it on and said, “Jacy I need your help again. Lieutenant Commander Karla is offering me a deal and I need you to be my negotiator. Tell Karla that I will turn myself in if she promises to free Cogon so he can return to work in the lower levels, and promises she won’t recycle me.
She won’t accept those terms and she’ll counteroffer.
Tell her you’ll communicate with me and let her know in twenty hours.
Drag the negotiations out as long as possible.
I don’t care what the final terms are for me as long as Cogon stays alive and no one else is arrested. I’m trusting you.”
“You don’t care what the final terms are?” Riley asked. He closed the door and stood there holding a steaming bowl.
“No. As long as I cause problems and do maximum damage.” I wondered how much he had heard.
“What about your friends? Don’t you think they care?”
“But I would be helping them. And besides, it’s my decision.”
“Maybe they don’t want you to help them. Did you ever think of that? Did you think about how your decision impacts others? Who you leave behind to deal with the gaping hole in their existence?”
Riley’s agitation seemed excessive. He noticed my confusion. “I guess it must be a family thing. Something a scrub wouldn’t understand. Although I wouldn’t call me and my still grieving father a family.”
I remembered. Riley wasn’t angry at me, but at his mother. Her name was on Domotor’s recycled list. “I know you miss your mother—”
“You don’t know. You’re a scrub. You don’t have a family.”
Now I was livid. “Of course I do. The scrubs are my family. I have a mother. I shared her with nine brothers and sisters, but she loves us all. And I have Cog, who I will negotiate with Karla in order to save.” My outburst surprised me, but not as much as the realization that I truly believed what I had said.